


Exhaustion

by LibraryMage



Series: Whumptober 2018 [7]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 21:25:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16457498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraryMage/pseuds/LibraryMage
Summary: Ezra is no stranger to nightmares.





	Exhaustion

The sharp, pained gasp was quiet, but to Caleb it may as well have been a scream.  He drew closer to Ezra’s door, listening intently, not wanting to barge in and wake him up if he didn’t need to.  The brief moment of quiet was cut short by a loud whimper of fear, pain, or knowing the usual content of Ezra’s dreams, both.  When Caleb opened the door, he found Ezra in his bed, his eyes shut, clutching at his blanket as if he was trying to use it to shield himself.  A series of terrified whimpers escaped his throat as he thrashed under the blanket, as if he was struggling against something.

“Ezra,” Caleb said, rushing to the bed and gently shaking the boy’s shoulder.  “Ezra, wake up.  It’s okay, it’s just a dream.”

Ezra pulled away, crying out in terror, but he still didn’t wake up.

“Ezra, it’s me,” Caleb said, reaching out and touching Ezra’s shoulder again.  “It’s Caleb. I’m right here.  It’s okay.”

As Ezra’s eyes snapped open, he screamed, throwing his own hand over his mouth to muffle the sound.  For a moment, he stared, wide-eyed but apparently unseeing, into the air directly above him.

“Ezra?” Caleb asked, keeping his voice as calm as he could as he pulled his hand away from Ezra’s shoulder.

Caleb jumped as Ezra abruptly sat up and lunged toward him.  The kid threw his arms around Caleb’s neck, burying his face in his shoulder, shaking. Caleb only stood there, stunned for a moment, before he realized that Ezra was crying.

“It’s okay,” Caleb said, wrapping his arms around Ezra and carefully lifting the kid up.  He sat down on the edge of the bed, settling Ezra onto his lap, one hand gently making circles on the kid’s back as he slowly rocked where he sat.

“It’s okay,” he said again.  “You’re okay.  You’re safe.”

Ezra’s sobbing only grew louder and harsher as he clung to Caleb even tighter than before.  His fear echoed and screamed inside his head and in the space around him, like a dark pit or an open wound in the Force.  It was so loud and painful that even with his mind carefully shielded, Caleb could sense the feelings and even thoughts that raced around Ezra’s mind, drowning out Caleb’s comforting words.

_No, please, Master, I’m sorry, please have mercy, **please** ; no no no  **no**  mercy is a lie I’m sorry I’m  **sorry**  please stop, please it hurts it hurts  **stop**  –_

“Ezra,” Caleb said, choking out the boy’s name past the tight pain that had formed in his throat as he’d brushed up against Ezra’s mind.  “It’s okay. I promise, you’re safe here.  No one’s going to hurt you.”

“C–Caleb,” Ezra said, his voice shaking.

“Yeah,” Caleb said.  “I’m right here.  I’ve got you.”

Ezra drew in a sharp gasp of air and held it for a moment before slowly releasing it.  He was still shaking, but the tightness in his shoulders seemed to ease just a bit.  It was painfully slow, but his sobbing grew quieter as Caleb held him, gently rocking him. As he slowly managed to soothe Ezra, Caleb couldn’t help but be painfully aware of just how young and small the kid was.  Nine years old was far too young to carry what weighed on Ezra’s shoulders, but he was forced to carry it anyway, all thanks to the monster who now haunted him whether he was awake or asleep.

“’M sorry,” Ezra said, the words catching in his throat.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Caleb said.  “It was just a nightmare.  It wasn’t your fault.”

Ezra’s only response was another quiet, pained whimper.  The sound dug into Caleb’s mind, reminding him of a small nest of abandoned tooka kits he’d once stumbled across as a teenager.

“Was it him?” Caleb asked, even though he knew perfectly well that it was.

Ezra nodded, a small “mhm” just barely audible in the back of his throat.

“It’s okay,” Caleb said.  “You’re safe here.  He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“Y–yes, he can,” Ezra said, his voice breaking.

It wasn’t just the words, but the sheer hopelessness with which Ezra spoke them that hit Caleb like a powerful punch to the gut.  In a way, Ezra was right.  Maul might be dead, unable to lay a hand on Ezra or anyone else, but the scars he’d left on the kid, both physical and mental, were still there.  Every time Ezra saw someone move toward him and flinched, every time he began shaking, terrified that he was about to be punished for something, every time he woke up screaming, that was Maul still hurting him from beyond the grave.

“I’ll protect you,” Caleb said, his arms tightening around Ezra as if he could physically shield the boy from his own nightmares.

For a moment, Ezra said nothing.  When he finally spoke, Caleb’s heart wrenched at just how small and scared he sounded.

“Promise?”

“Yeah,” Caleb said.  “I promise.”

He carefully shifted where he sat so he could lay Ezra back down on the bed.  He retrieved the blanket that Ezra had tossed aside and tucked it snugly around the boy. Already, Ezra’s eyelids were beginning to droop again.  Poor kid must have been exhausted from lessons with the other younglings all day, and Caleb knew his nightmares never helped with that.

“You’re safe here,” Caleb said, taking one of Ezra’s hands and gently gripping it in both of his.  “I know you’re scared, but I promise I’ll make sure you stay safe.”

Ezra’s only acknowledgement of his words was a small nod of his head, and within seconds, he had slipped back into sleep.

 

 


End file.
